


Sifting Through Ashes

by oreopizza47



Series: A Living History [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oreopizza47/pseuds/oreopizza47
Summary: Urim searches for signs of life in the aftermath of the dragon attack.
Series: A Living History [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980581
Kudos: 2





	Sifting Through Ashes

A dragon in Skyrim. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Urim would not have believed it. A dragon anywhere, for that matter. It was unthinkable. Dragons had not been seen for hundreds of years, at least not by any verifiable sources. To have one show up and burn Helgen to the ground was… ill tidings, at best, for Skyrim and all her people.

Having remained hidden until he was sure the threat had passed, Urim left his cover and took off at a run for Helgen. If there were survivors, they would need help getting out.

The great wooden gates of the town were somehow left standing, though nearly knocked from their hinges. They blasted inwards as Urim barreled into them shoulder-first. He found himself standing in an open courtyard, with ruined buildings lining all sides. On one side, a massive bonfire was all that was left of what may have been a home. On another, the roof and upper floor had caved in on what may have been an inn. The sign for the general store lay singed and cracked in front of what was now little more than a pile of rubble.

Tusk!, thought Urim. Probably not going to be retrieving those Nordic jars from the shopkeep.

He spotted a path worn by dozens of bootprints that seemed to snake through the fallen debris. Determining which way it came from and which way it led, Urim followed it to its final destination, which appeared to be a large keep that was built into the outer wall. There seemed to be a split where some of the townsfolk had gone through the large door to the barracks, while others had taken a smaller door to the right. And, looking closely, it appeared there was one set of prints that ran directly away from both. 

Urim decided to check that path first. He followed it across what used to be the training yard, over to a stone wall where a few singed dummies still stood amongst the rubble. Curled up in the fetal position behind one lay a charred corpse, no features recognizable. It clutched a worn leather journal in its hands, miraculously free of the damage that had befallen its owner.

He reached down and pulled the journal from the body. Bones cracked and crumbled to ash as they were disturbed from their rest, leaving nothing but dust where the body had lain. 

Urim flipped through the journal to the most recent pages. Seemed there had been an execution planned here, captured Stormcloaks to be beheaded by Imperial forces, including… wow, Ulfric Stormcloak himself. As the headsman had readied his axe, the dragon had appeared atop a tower as if from nowhere, calling down flame and wind across the town. The prisoners, soldiers, and townspeople had all scattered, but an Imperial named Hadvar and a Stormcloak named Ralof had banded together to form a path for everyone, yelling about some secret cave exit in the belly of the keep.

The last lines were hastily scribbled. Probably had been jotted down while waiting for a chance to dash between buildings. The group traveling with the pair of men must have been too obvious a target, and the dragon had split it right before the keep, with this writer caught unable to go in either direction.

Urim snapped the book shut and turned his head to the keep. From the outside, it seemed fairly undamaged. Perhaps some of the group had lived, under the guidance of the two men. He pocketed the journal, and took off jogging towards the larger of the two doors.

⁂

A short time later, and Urim was up against a dead end in the form of a massive pile of collapsed rock blocking access to the undeveloped portions of the escape cavern. He could see light coming from the other side, so he reasoned another way in must exist outside Helgen, and resolved to go find it.

He was much less hopeful about finding anyone alive at this point though. Making his way down here, he had seen dozens of corpses strewn about, none of which seemed to have any telltale burns or claw marks. No, it simply seemed that a dragon was not enough of a reason to let a perfectly good war go to waste for most of them. In nearly equal numbers, Stormcloak and Imperial alike lay in various states of disemboweled. He had tried to use a fallen greatsword to pry open the passage, but the thing had snapped under the pressure. He was at least happy he hadn't used his own sword on the attempt. On his way out, he took greater care to search for any supplies or gear left behind by those fleeing or fighting, and he managed to gather a bagful of potions, some preserved food to add to his ration kit, and a sturdy iron warhammer, whose comfortable weight was currently hefted over his shoulder as he stepped back out into the sun.

The fires around town still burned hot, with plenty of kindling to spare, but they had not spread, and seemed unlikely to pose a threat to the surrounding wilderness. A small comfort, amid the destruction.

Urim made his way out of the main gate of Helgen, and looked around for any clues to the location of the escape cave. He figured it would not be immediately visible, but there would likely be some recent disturbance from any survivors of the attack. Nothing stood out near the walls, but as he trekked down the mountain path, he noticed a series of broken branches and disturbed shrubs off to one side. Having no better options readily available, he followed the trail of disheveled foliage, and sure enough, it led him to the mouth of a rather large cave, easily tall enough to stand upright in, but blocked from view at most angles by some fortunate boulders.

Tightening his grip on the warhammer over his shoulder, Urim made his way down into the cave. It opened up hungrily as he descended, a stone gullet several times his size vertically, but barely wider than a particularly sturdy human. He gingerly shuffled sideways through it for a few moments, until it finally expanded into a comfortably large space, lit from above by cracks in the cliff roof, some of which still poured snow and pebbles from the surface. He realized the cracks were new, and stopped in his tracks as that realization was followed by one that informed him of the logical conclusion of that fact: this cavern could collapse at any moment.

He did nothing but breathe for a tense moment, until he heard a man groan in the distance. At least one person was alive in here. A brief moment of shock was followed by grim determination, as Urim pulled his hammer into a ready stance and crept cautiously forward.

Rounding the edge of a massive slab of stone in the center of the cave, he spotted a man in Imperial garb struggling to lift himself from the ground, cradling one arm across his chest as he wavered on his other hand and knees. Urim took the hammer and slipped it between his back and the strap of his bandolier, making a point to make a bit of noise as he took the last few steps to the man's side, as an advance warning.

The Imperial's head shot towards Urim, and his eyes widened in anger and horror. "What are you doing here? Why did you come back!? It's not safe in here, don't tell me it's not safe out there either!"

"Quiet," Urim intoned. "This place could collapse and kill us both. Here." He fished out one of the potions he had acquired in the keep, a healing potion, and passed it down to the Imperial.

With narrowed eyes and shaky breaths, the Imperial pushed himself up, so that he was seated on his own legs and managing to keep himself upright. He took the flask and downed the contents, then sat with his hands on his knees as his breathing slowly steadied. "Thank you. You… you aren't one of the townsfolk, are you? How did you find this place?"

"I was coming to town to meet the shopkeeper," explained Urim. "Saw the dragon leaving as I got close. Followed the footprints through the keep, hit a cave-in, came back outside to look for the other side."

"And the townsfolk, did you see any of them leaving?"

"No. You are the first live person I've seen. But there are recently trampled plants outside the cave."

The Imperial breathed a deep sigh of relief, and carefully rose to his feet. "Sounds like they made it out. Thank the Divines."

Suddenly, a pair of deafening cracks echoed through the cavern. Both of them snapped their heads to the ceiling, where the snow and rocks had begun falling in a just-in-time warning that the cavern was about to bury them. Without speaking, Urim grabbed the front of the Imperial's armor and took off at a dead sprint. If he couldn't keep up, Urim would be putting in enough force to drag him to safety.

Luckily for the Imperial, he was just barely able to keep up, taking frantic steps that favored one leg as he scrambled to keep his feet underneath him. As they neared the narrow exit, Urim hazarded a look back at the cavern. Accompanied by a large thump in the distance, the center of the ceiling was making thunderous cracking and snapping noises as it sagged under the weight of the earth above. A veritable avalanche of dirt and snow was following behind the chunk of stone now entering free fall.

Urim felt the blood rushing through his veins as the adrenaline kicked in, nearly outside his control. Urim grabbed the waist of the Imperial's armor with his free hand and launched the man bodily through the passage with a ferocious roar. Following closely behind, leaping sideways feet at a time, Urim dove out of the mouth of the cave just as a wave of dust and powder blasted out over his head.

The Imperial was sprawled out on the ground a short distance from Urim, coughing slightly at the dust, with only his head lifted from the ground to look at Urim. He closed his eyes and let his head drop, breathing heavily. "… I think… I am very lucky you came when you did friend."

⁂

The pair picked themselves up and dusted off, quickly swapping stories of how they had gotten where they were that day. Helgen, it seemed, did not often get visitors, so it seemed a fateful coincidence that the execution, the dragon, and Urim's visit all happened the same day. Together, they looked through the ruins of the town, searching for signs of life. When that task failed, they instead searched for trinkets and remnants of the town and its people, at Urim's suggestion, to ship to the museum in remembrance of the day. He wasn't sure where it would fit in the museum layout, but if nothing else, the people deserved to have their armor cleaned and displayed, along with the a few unbroken bottles of "Vilod's famous Juniper Berry mead". Auryen would understand. He'd find room.

Commandeering a handcart that had escaped destruction, the pair made their way out of the town with a carefully arranged haul. The Imperial, Hadvar, turned out to have family in Riverwood, so they trekked along the path together, discussing next steps. Understandably so, Hadvar was deeply concerned at how smaller, less defended outposts would fare with dragons on the loose. It was decided that, for the time being, Hadvar would stay with his uncle and try to rally the people of Riverwood to increase their defenses, while Urim would travel back to Whiterun to warn the Jarl and get a detachment of soldiers to come take over protection.

Their paths decided, they parted ways at the Riverwood bridge, Urim continuing to pull the handcart himself. By the time he arrived back at the Whiterun stables, the sun had passed its peak and just started to sink in the sky. Wiping his brow, he pulled the cart up to the carriage master, when he noticed something he had not seen on arrival. Beside the carriage lay a stack of locked boxes, all bearing the logo of the Dragonborn Gallery. Discussion with the carriage master revealed that Auryen had arranged for shipping crates to be placed near inns and carriages around Skyrim for charitable donations to the museum to be collected and shipped to Solitude.

A lucky coincidence, thought Urim. It would save him a lot of trouble to avoid hauling relics and gear all across the region. He got to work carefully packing his findings into a crate.

⁂

As he lowered the last piece of the fallen warriors gear into the crate, he heard a horse galloping up to the stables, where a heavily armored woman hopped off and began trading discussion with the stable master.

"Uthgerd! You've been gone for weeks! I was starting to worry!"

"What, you think I passed that easily? You have so little faith?"

"The thought had crossed my mind. World's getting to be a dangerous place."

"Ha! Dangerous. I'll stand to any challenge. Like you, there!"

Urim snapped back to reality as he realized the woman was pointing at him. He scowled and raised a questioning eyebrow.

The woman, Uthgerd, continued, "Orcs are all about glorious battle, right? Come here, I'll take you on, hand to hand! You might look tough, but I am unbreakable!"

Urim frowned. He really didn't have time for this. "I have pressing matters to attend," he said as he snapped the clasp shut on the shipping crate. 

Uthgerd placed her hands on her hips and jeered "Oh, well, if it's pressing… you'll have plenty of time to get to it after I mop the floor with you!"

Urim did his best to ignore her, and began to walk away from the carriage and towards the gates of Whiterun. As he came within a few steps of the woman, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her throw a wild haymaker at the side of his head, yelling "Don't you ignore me pig-child!" 

He dropped low, letting Uthgerd's momentum set her off balance as she swung high, before he sprang back up, pushing both hands into her chest, and sending her stumbling back several steps. She regained her balance and raised her fists as Urim planted himself in a ready stance, both fists raised high to allow quick blocking with his arms.

It served him well: as she swung high and wide again, he shrugged his left shoulder up to let the thick meat of his arm bear the blow. As he did, he turned his torso back to the right, and then drove his whole right side forward into a direct shot toward the woman's abdomen. Mistake. He connected with a clang, slamming directly into hard steel. Fortunately, the blow was strong enough to cost Uthgerd a bit of ground, and Urim quickly shuffled back two more steps as he shook his hand. 

He grunted in muted pain and rage. Frustrated with himself for such a poorly thought out move, he forced himself to keep the adrenaline from boiling over. It would do him no help to let rage take over in a one-on-one fight against a thinking warrior. 

He raised his fists once again as Uthgerd closed the distance. She leapt forward suddenly, swinging at the same time, just slightly too fast for Urim to counter cleanly. Her gauntleted fist slammed into his chin, and he tried to turn with it to prevent whiplash. She followed up with a low uppercut from her off-hand as he turned back to face her, but he managed to pull back out of the way just in time. 

He pressed the advantage, planting a foot behind him letting loose with a right hook. Uthgerd failed to get herself out of the way in time, too far forward in trying to push her own advantage. The hook connected solidly with her jaw, leaving her reeling and unsteady in her bulky gear. A second hook, from the left, left the Nord hunched over, bleary. He closed with a sweeping uppercut, catching his opponent just under the temple, and driving her off her feet. She landed hard, and loud, in a heap of armor. 

There was a pregnant pause as the stable master gaped at the scene, and Urim huffed out hard breaths. After a moment, Uthgerd propped herself up on her elbows. She blinked a few times. Then, a strange emotion hit her face. At least, strange to Urim: the Nord was grinning wildly. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "That was a hell of a punch! Gods, I'd love to see what you could do to a troll or two." 

Urim's eyebrows shot up. That was not the response he had expected. 

Uthgerd continued, "Hey, sorry I dragged you into that. I was a little heated. But if you ever need an extra sword at your back, come find me!" 

Feeling very much as if he was living in a separate reality from the woman, Urim simply nodded, and left to make his way to the gates. Behind him, he could hear Uthgerd call to the stable master. "Skulvar! Help me up, dammit. I need a drink." 

Yeah, thought Urim. Me too. 

⁂


End file.
